Crazy Things
by JuliaPenn
Summary: SLASH DESTIEL. Not happy with it? Go read something else. Okay, basically this is the starting of a relationship between Dean and Castiel and how they're all dealing with it. It won't get really mature until the end. AND THERE IS A PLOT. I SWEAR.
1. Crazy Things

****DISCLAIMER****

**In no way do I own Sam, Dean, or Castiel. Heheh. *Dreams of them locked in chains in her basement*. Ahem. They're owned by whoever made SPN and of course, that genius Kripke.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy.**

****/END DISCLAIMER.****

Sam and Dean were going through another "rough time". Dean was angry at Sam, for some reason he couldn't explain, and Sam was mad that he wasn't getting an explanation. Dean didn't know how to explain. In his head, it seemed like it was because Sam was getting careless with his life. They had just finished a job and Dean had had to save Sam from at least three situations which Sam could have avoided if he'd cared to. But it seemed like he hadn't.

Sam was sitting on his queen bed in a T-shirt and boxers, using his laptop to look for their next job. Dean was sitting on his own queen in the same attire – but much cooler looking, he thought. He was doing nothing but staring at the ceiling and drinking a can of beer. He was of the firm opinion that one should relax after finishing a job. Sam thought otherwise.

Another point of contention.

Dean took another swig of his beer and realized his can was empty. "We're outta beer," he announced loudly.

Sam grunted.

Dean sighed and got up to slip on a pair of jeans that smelled ripe. "Where're you going?" Sam asked, without taking his eyes from the screen.

"Out," Dean smiled, picking up the keys from the table.

"No duh," Sam replied, rolling his eyes, finally looking at Dean. _Victory,_ thought Dean. "Where?"

Dean shrugged. "To get some beer. Maybe some pie."

Sam became uninterested again. "Save me a piece."

Dean headed out the door.

Outside, Dean was surprised to see Cas leaning against his Impala. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he unlocked his car and climbed in the driver's seat.

Cas opened the passenger seat and sat in beside him. "I was…," he furrowed his brow in that typical Castiel way. "Bored."

Dean turned the key and backed out of his space. He grinned at Cas. "You – bored?" He laughed. Then he grew serious. "You're feeling human emotions." He was thinking of the time he met future Cas – the fully human Cas. The one who wasn't really Cas. Not the Cas he knew.

Castiel looked at Dean strangely, and said cryptically, "Yes. It seems I am."

The ride to the local grocery store was quiet until they pulled in and Dean looked at Cas as they got out of the car and asked, "Dude, you're creeping me out. Why are you staring at me like that?"

Castiel immediately turned away from Dean. "I'm not staring at you."

Dean laughed. "You were totally staring."

"This is how normal humans look at each other."

"You're not a normal human, Cas, you're a frickin' angel. And you were staring."

Castiel's mouth twitched. "I was not. Now let's get whatever you came here for." He strode purposefully toward the store. Dean shook his head and followed him in.

Inside, Cas's indignant demeanor was replaced by wonder. "I've never been in a store like this before," he told Dean, staring at the rows of produce. "It's so very…convenient. And bright."

"Dude, stop being obvious, " Dean whispered back, pickin up a pack of beer and three mini pies. They were the only ones in the store so late at night, and the cashier was looking at them weird.

When they got back to the car without incident, Dean unlocked it but instead of opening the driver's door, he got in the backseat and began to eat his pie.

Cas opened the shotgun door and stuck is head in. "Dean. You're not driving."

Dean looked around, and then took another big bite of pie. Without swallowing, he said, "I guess I'm not."

Castiel closed the door and then got in the other backseat door and sat next to Dean. He accepted a pie and plastic spork and stared at it a little while before asking, "Why?"

There was a long pause where Castiel could only hear the sound of Dean chewing. He could barely see him because they were parked far from the store's entrance and the light didn't reach them. Cas finally realized that Dean wasn't going to answer, so he asked, "You and Sam are arguing again?"

Dean gave a bitter smile. "Give the man a prize." He cracked open a beer and offered it to Cas. Then he opened his own and took a swig.

"So...we're not going back to the motel any time soon?" Cas asked.

Dean sighed. "Just drink your beer, Cas." Castiel dutifully took a sip.

It was quiet for a while, but Cas felt chatty tonight. "What is this argument about?"

Dean leaned forward and looked frustrated. "I don't know how to tell Sammy not to give up. And even if I did tell him, you know Sammy and orders. He'd give up just to spite me." He took a longer drink from his beer and stared at nothing.

"You think Sam is going to give up?" Cas asked quietly.

"God, I don't know," said Dean, sounding helpless. The worry, confusion, and fear was evident on his face. He was taking sips faster now. Cas took a quiet sip from his own beer but before he had the chance to ask another question, Dean had continued on his own.

"I mean, he's been acting like he doesn't care if he lives or dies. I've barely been living again...and he wants to throw away _his_ life? Since the beginning, all I've wanted was to keep our family together. It's just Sam and me, now. And he keeps talking about giving himself up to save the world or whatever, asif he's not...," his voice cracked and he took a final drink of beer before finishing quietly, "As if he's not worth the world."

Dean looked at Cas with such heart-wrenching anguish that he couldn't help saying it. "You're worth the world," he whispered. "And more."

Dean looked at him, confused. "What'd you say?" he asked, leaning towards Cas so he could hear better. Cas leaned as well, so they were bent towards each other.

"You're worth more than the world," Castiel breathed, and before Dean could say anything, he closed the space between them with a kiss.

Usually cas could barely taste anything. As a heavenly being, his "unnecessary" senses were duller than those of a mortal's. So with the beer and the pie, he'd only gotten a ghost of the flavor. But with Dean? He could_ taste _Dean...He picked up crumbs as he ran his toungue over Dean's lips and could faintly get the cinnamon. He tasted like something warm and familiar to Castiel and he'd never experienced anything like it before. He made a little noise and pushed harder.

But then Dean pulled away. Castiel was left looking into Dean's puzzled and, a little scared, gaze. Why had he pulled away?

Dean cleared his throat and then opened his door. "Beer," he said hoarsely. "Makes you do crazy things." He got out and dropped his can onto the ground. Then he climbed into the front seat and started the car. When he looked back in his rearview mirror, Cas was gone, flashed out. Leaving his beer and pie on the seat. Dean quietly returned to a motel room where he'd find Sam asleep at his computer, and where he could be alone with thoughts he didn't want to be thinking.


	2. Take 2

***I hate being reminded of me not owning Sam, Cas, or Dean. .***

After the night's strange events, Castiel was left feeling restless. He flashed around the globe, visiting the great sights. He saw the stars reflected on the twinkling Pacific surf. He witnessed a sunrise in Paris, sitting on the edge of a building. He leaned against the Great Wall of China. He stood at the top of a Great Pyramid in Egypt. He flitted in and out of all the amazing sights on this Earth that before, he'd only viewed from Heaven…but he wasn't satisfied. Because every place he went, if he saw other people…

They were always with someone else. And they looked much happier than he felt.

At last, Castiel decided he couldn't take it. He flashed to the town the brothers had last been in.

The phone beeped and rang, and then Cas heard the familiar voice, saying, "Who's this?" It almost made Cas smile. Dean'd never give his name out immediately on the phone, even when he recognized the number.

"It's Castiel," he said, surprised at the weird way his own voice sounded. "Dean, I need to talk to you."

"What about?" Dean sounded wary. "Have you found us a job?"

Cas ignored the question. "Where are you?"

Dean said the name of some town he'd never heard of, but Cas's mind was instantly awash with images from Dean's own head. He knew where to go.

"I'm there," Castiel told Dean, and in a second, he was.

Castiel now stood behind a gas station, about two steps from Dean. Both still held their cell phones raised to their ears, and they both simultaneously hung up. Dean was the first to speak.

"God, Cas, you're lucky it was my turn to take the trash to the dumpster –"

"I want to do it again," Cas interrupted.

Dean looked at Castiel warily. "Do what?"

"What we did last night."

Dean looked deliberately shifty. "Drink beer? Eat pie? What?"

Cas's gaze hardened. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Dean couldn't look him in the eye. "I'd had a lot of beer. Refresh my memory. Tell me."

Cas sighed in frustration. "Oh, I'll refresh your memory," he said, and, taking Dean by surprise, he reached out with both hands to grab the sides of Dean's open jacket and bring him close. Castiel had to tilt his head to meet his lips to Dean's, but he pressed hard against the man he thought he was in love with. It felt and tasted better than he remembered. This time, there was no stain of beer on Dean's soft lips which yielded to Cas's urgent ones. Dean's body fit perfectly against Castiel's. _This is better than heaven,_ thought Cas.

At first, Dean was surprised. His eyes were wide open as he watched Castiel – who'd started out looking shaken and disheveled for some reason – pull him closer. He saw the need and joy, which made his own heart leap, in Castiel's face. And then as he felt Castiel's tongue against his mouth, he closed his eyes and pressed back. His hands were no longer awkwardly hanging, one was in Castiel's hair and the other was around his waist. He stood there, and, for the moment, he wasn't thinking about Sam, or the end of the world. He was thinking about how amazing it felt to be there, with an angel's lips on his, and an angel's hair beneath his hand, and an angel's warm, comforting body against his.

Dean stopped kissing Castiel to rest his forehead against his. He kept his eyes closed; he didn't want to open them and be met with reality. Then he thought about what he'd been doing and screwed up his face in confusion and anger at his confusion. Anger at not being able to tell what he was feeling.

\"God," he said through grit teeth, and then he pushed Cas away and opened his eyes, feeling his heart sink and shatter. "This doesn't change anything," he lied. He realized he was trembling.

"You're wrong, Dean," Castiel said. And, unlike usual, his voice was filled with emotion. A powerful emotion that Dean had felt and tasted only moments before. "Everything is changed."

"Listen, if you like guys, or whatever, or if you want to experiment with human feelings, go to a bar and pick someone up," he told Cas, even though the thought of those hands and that mouth on someone else made him angrier than he'd ever been before. But he couldn't be with Castiel. Absolutely not. It was wrong. "Don't bring me into it.

Castiel looked at Dean and tried to figure out what the man was feeling. All this time on Earth, and he still didn't fully understand them. "I think I love you, Dean," said Castiel. "And by the way you kissed me, I think you love me, too. Why are you denying what we both are feeling?"

"I didn't kiss you. I didn't want to kiss you," Dean lied. He'd wanted to, and still wanted to. "You're imagining things.

The hurt in Castiel's wide, innocent gaze made Dean hurt so much. But this had to be done.

"I don't feel anything for you," Dean said, and the lie hurt almost more than letting go of his angel had. "Not a thing," said Dean, more forcefully.

"Why?"

This simple question took Dean by surprise. It was so typical of Cas to ask his usual, eager question. But this time, instead of hearing pure curiousity in the angel's voice, he heard hurt, confusion, and anger.

"Well…a man isn't supposed to love another man. It's not natural," Dean told Cas. In his head, he was yelling the same thing at himself. It wasn't convincing there, either. "I mean, doesn't your God hate homosexuality or whatever? Isn't it a sin that people go to hell for? I've already been to hell. Don't want to go back."

Now Cas looked confused. "God…wouldn't concern himself with petty mortal love affairs. No one's ever gone to hell for something like this."

"So now this is a petty mortal love affair," said Dean bitterly.

"No, Dean, that's not what I mean," sad Cas, and he said it with such tenderness that Dean wanted to pull the angel into his arms again. "Dean, it wouldn't be _wrong_ for us to be together," said Cas, reaching out to comfort Dean and stroke his face.

"Don't touch me!" said Dean sharply, stepping back. Because if Cas touched him, he wouldn't be able to help allowing him to touch him. And no matter what Castiel said, it was wrong. "Don't touch me," he repeated.

"I –," Cas started to say, and then choked. He started again, several times, and Dean 's heart ached as he watched him wrestling with his emotions. Then Castiel seemed to gain control and he finally said, "I'm going to change your mind."

And he was gone.

**I have more coming up, never fear. : )**


	3. Bovine Aid

***Looks around* Dammit. I still don't own a single Supernatural character.**

"You okay?" asked Sam when Dean got back into the car.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

Sam snorted and muttered, "Unresponsive as ever," raising his eyebrows and buckling his seatbelt.

Dean stopped turning on the car to turn halfway towards Sam and ask, "What'd you say?"

Sam smiled bitterly. "Nothing." He was passive-aggressive like that.

Dean grit his teeth and turned the car back on with a growl. "Whatever. Where're we going next? Got any leads on the whole Apocalypse thing?"

Sam sighed; whether it was because of their lack of communication or lack of success in his research was unclear. However, he brought out some pieces of newspaper clippings. "Nothing on the apocalypse front, but I think there's something a couple miles up."

"Something?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the mostly empty road.

"Our kind of something. Three disappearances in the past month. All teens who went to check out a supposedly haunted house."

"Think it's a spirit?"

"Probably, but no way to be sure without checking it out ourselves."

"Okay, this seems like an easy enough job. And the place is only a couple of miles away?"

"Yep. We should be there pretty soon."

Sam put away the papers and then looked piercingly at his brother. "You sure there's absolutely nothing you need to talk about?"

"Dude, I said I was fine," snapped Dean, annoyed.

"Whatever," responded Sam. "I'm taking a nap." He lay back against the car's seat and closed his eyes.

"God damn it," whispered Dean, and he pressed harder on the gas. He wished he'd let Sammy drive, he wanted to be the one sleeping. He'd hardly gotten any sleep last night and he didn't want to be thinking right now.

Dean hated thinking. And it wasn't that he didn't think, like Sammy often implied. It was that he thought too much. Dean's midn was constantly moving, jumping around, and very often, he couldn't get it to stop until his body shut itself down in needed slumber.

But it had stopped when he'd kissed Castiel.

That thought was instantly pushed to the recesses of Dean's mind. But that was the problem. His mind moved so much, thoughts he pushed away always ended up being jiggled back ot the spotlight again.

Soon, he found himself thinking of Castiel again. Thinking and comparing. Dean had rarely ever been serious before. Maybe three or four girls had managed to capture his heart and hold his attention for more than a day or two. About half of them were now gone. Jo and Anna. Damn.

The other two, he'd never consider being with again. He'd put them in too much danger. He knew he wouldn't be able to support either of them, not in the condition he was now. Not only that, but he doubted they could accept him or could support him, either.

Cas could. He could feel it in the way he'd gripped him and held him, gentle and strong and _there_. Cas could handle himself and anything Dean threw at him. He could handle the fact that Dean had gone to hell; he could handle the fact that Dean had been a part of hell. Fuck, Cas had been the one to pull him out of that goddamned place. If that wasn't grounds for love, what was?

But Dean still held himself back. Some of the problem, he had to admit, was his dad.

It wasn't like John Winchester was alive to look disapprovingly at him and to scoff in disbelief at the very idea that one of his sons – _his sons _– had ended up gay. Seriously, John Winchester didn't raise any girls. He'd raised men. Men. And men didn't love other men. They didn't fantasize about another man clutching him tight and whispering in his ear –

"Dean!" Sam's yell broke through his reverie.

"Shit!" Dean cursed, swerving and narrowly missing a cow in the middle of the road. "Goddamn cow."

In the rearview mirror Dean could see the cow moo-ing mockingly at him. He made a face at it.

Sam was half sitting up, breathing hard.

"Sorry," muttered Dean, glancing sideways at his little brother.

"Just don't get us in an accident," breathed Sam, laying back. Dean thought back to the only other accident he'd ever been in. But then Sam cracked an ironic smile. "That would be funny, wouldn't it? Death by cow. Using a cow to thwart Michael and Lucifer." His chuckle was bitter and humorless.

"Look, man, we don't need a cow," Dean said seriously.

"You're right," replied Sam. "We can waste ourselves without 'bovine' aid." He pronounced 'bovine' to rhyme with 'divine'.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Do. Not. Talk like that," he said curtly around clenched teeth.

Sam's eyes were empty and defeated as they clicked out the window. "Exit up," he said. Convenient change of subject, Dean thought as he turned off the road.

**Tell me what you think of the story so far!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Believe me, if I owned any Supernatural character, I would not be writing this story. I would be off doing more *interesting* things, if you get my drift.**

Castiel was in a bar. He had flitted around until he'd found the perfect one. It had a big sign outside proclaiming that Thursday was "Gay Night." It was exactly what he was looking for. He walked in and ordered a water. What little taste he'd gotten from the beer the other night wasn't good anyway. Better to order something naturally tasteless. At least then, he wasn't missing out on anything.

The bartender slung the water at him and said, "So, if you're not here for the booze, you must be here for something else," and winked.

Castiel felt himself blush, but nodded. A man a couple of seats down looked up in interest. "Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you here for?"

He was a handsome enough man, Cas supposed. Pale marble features and jet black medium length hair. Crystal blue eyes. He'd gotten more than a couple of second looks from people in the crowded club.

"I'm here to learn," declared Castiel.

The bartender and the man wiggled their eyebrows at each other in a way that made Cas uncomfortable. _I'm here because Dean told me to, _he said to himself. _Here for Dean. Dean._

"Learn what?" the curious stranger inquired further, sliding more towards Cas.

"Well, I have a . . . friend."

The man smirked good-naturedly, as if he'd heard it all before. "Right. A friend. I get it. I'm Rick," he said, offering his hand.

Castiel shook it tentatively. "Cas," he said. "What do you . . . get?"

"So many gays start out just like you," said Rick, sighing. "They realize they have feelings for a 'friend' and they want to find a way to get their 'friend' to feel the same way about them." He gulped from his chilled drink and then raised his eyebrows at Cas. "Am I right?"

Castiel nodded. "What can I do?"

"First things first: Do you know which way your friend swings?"

Cas looked at him blankly.

Rick laughed. "You know – does he like guys or gals?"

Castiel looked down at the drink between his trembling hands. "So far, he's only been with girls," Cas said softly.

Rik shook his head softly. "Not a good sign, Cas."

Castiel looked up with fire in his eyes. "I have gone through hell for this man. I love him. I have kissed him and he has kissed me back," he said fiercely.

Rick smiled. He probably thought Castiel was exaggerating. "Well if he's kissed you, why is there any doubt as to how he feels about you?"

"Technically…he didn't kiss me. He just kissed me back when I kissed him. And is now denying it." Castiel had gone back to staring morosely into the glass of water in front of him, so much clearer than the matter at hand.

Rick slid closer to Cas. "Well the great thing about the male half of the species is that there is always hormones coursing through our veins. It's practically a rule. You're not a guy unless you think with your dick." Rick gave a conspiratorial wink.

Castiel looked at him helplessly. "So what do I do?" he asked.

"Catch him alone. Kiss him until he can't think straight. If he has any feelings at all for you, it'll work." Rick grinned wickedly.

"But how?" Cas's question was plaintive and tinged with despair.

"How many times have you kissed a guy."

"…Twice."

"Well…," Rick leaned in and kissed Castiel. He brought a hand up to stroke Castiel's face and the other was resting on Cas's chest. Rick's mouth molded to Cas's. His kiss was long and sweet, and Cas could taste him almost as clearly as he could taste Daen. Rick was sugar and vanilla to Dean's honey and cinnamon. Rick slowly explored Cas's mouth with his toungue, and Castiel found himself responding in ways he'd never imagined.

When Rick let Castiel go, he was breathless, panting, and wild-eyed. Rick was calm and his clear blue eyes seemed to be laughing. "So what's the name of this club?" he drawled.

Castiel stammered something unintelligible.

"_That_ is how you kiss someone until they can't think straight. And if he cares for you as much as you say you care for him, it will work doubly."

"I –" started Cas, but his cell phone rang. "Hold on."

"Cas, it's Dean."

"Oh." Cas worked to make his voice empty of emotion.

"Sam and I are working a job. We're staying at the Twenty Pins Motel."

"Okay."

"Is that – club music?" Dean asked, sounding slightly incredulous.

"Yes."

Now Dean sounded a bit panicked. "Cas you didn't – you didn't do what I told you to…did you?" His voice was strangled.

"If I did?"

"Well," said Dean, but he couldn't go on. Castiel heard a click and knew the call was ended.

Castiel looked over at Rick, who was smiling lazily at him. But the hurt in the one word Dean had spoken cut through Cas's heart.

"I – I need to go," he told Rick.

Rick looked regretful. "Too bad."

Castiel got up to leave, then turned back. "Show me one more time," he said. He wanted to remember everything he needed to know for tomorrow.

**I know, the thought of Castiel kissing someone besides Dean pains me too. Don't worry, it will all work out. Probably. It's kind of scary when the author doesn't know the way her own story is going, isn't it?**


	5. Over and Over

**Do I have to keep doing this disclaimer that I DO NOT own any of these characters? It's depressing, really.**

Dean stared at the phone in his hand. Their new motel room was nice and spacious, two beds as usual. Sam was stretched out on his blue blanketed queen, with a pillow over his head. He'd gotten a huge headache.

"Did I hear you say Cas was in a club?" came his muffled voice.

"Uh…yeah."

"Why?"

"Dude…he's picking up a g – girl." Dean swallowed. He'd almost said guy.

Sam took the pillow off his face. "What did you mean, what you told Cas to do?"

"Um…I told him he needed to chill out. Get a girl."

"So why were you so freaked out when he did?" Sam's question was asked more casually than it usually would have been. Because of the headache medicine, he wasn't feeling like his sharp-minded self.

Dean snorted, fighting to act casual. "Cas's last interaction with a girl didn't go so well, if you recall."

Sam sighed and settled deeper into the bed. "Well," he said, "everyone…needs to…unwind…," and the rest was an unintelligible murmur as the medicine kicked in and he drifted off.

Now that Sam was safely out of commission, Dean let out a big breath. He slipped out the motel room door and stood with his back against the wall. 'Dammit," he cursed softly to himself. "Dammit, dammit, GODDAMMIT!" The last, he yelled, and punched the concrete trash can in front of him.

His knuckles were now slightly scraped, and the trash can remained unharmed. Dean didn't care. His stupid, stupid mind chose now to focus on one thought; Cas kissing someone. Someone besides _him._ Someone else's hands in _his_ angel's hair. Someone else's body against _his _Castiel. His imagination conjured up the image of Cas making out with some random nobody and repeated the loop, over and over.

Dean sank to the floor and punched the trash can, over and over. With each image, he pounded his fist against the cement. The grey concrete was now stained with his blood. Dean didn't see it because he was screwing his eyes up in an effort to banish that damned sight from his mind.

**Wow, shortest chapter ever. But necessary, I think.**


	6. Um, yeah, Kinda

**Okay, yes, disclaimer out of the way: I do not keep these characters anywhere about my person or anywhere else because they are not owned by me.**

Sam was in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, moaning and groaning. He'd woken up with bile climbing his throat and hadn't left the bathroom since.

Dean rapped on the door.

"Whaat?" groaned Sam.

"I'm heading to the library." Dean winced at the retching noises, but continued. "I'm going to look up that house."

"Great-," Sam got out between upchucking.

"O-kay. Bye." And Dean was out of there, heading towards the only library in this tiny little place.

He'd had to get away from Sam. When he was around Sam, he tried to focus on not thinking about Castiel. So, of course, his thoughts turned to Castiel even more.

Dean had decided to walk instead of drive. Pretty soon, he picked up the feeling of being followed. Instinctively, he ducked down an alley, and then turned a corner. Suddenly, he whirled to face his follower.

His eyes widened in recognition. Castiel caught him in his moment of shock and pushed him to ground gruffly. Swiftly, the angel knelt with one knee over him, straddling his waist. One hand was at the base of Dean's neck, holding him partly upright, and the other was covering his mouth.

"Listen," said Castiel, sounding just a bit nervous. But he gazed fiercely into Dean's green-flecked gaze. "I want you," he continued. "And I'm going to show you just how much."

Castiel uncovered Dean's mouth and then closed the distance between their lips. He sighed in joy as they met.

Dean had been trying to figure out how he felt. He was practically lying down, only propped up by his elbows and held by Cas's hand on his neck. Besides Cas's hands, he wasn't in contact. But he was still acutely aware of Cas's knee inches from his waist. Of Castiel just a little bit away from being _right on top of him._

Dean had been preoccupied with all of this, but then Castiel had kissed him, and his mind had just…let go. Cas was gripping his hair and stroking his cheek and neck, and he was setting off fireworks in his mouth.

Without even thinking about it, Dean kissed back. His tongue met Castiel's and any remaining thoughts went out the window. He brought his arms up around Castiel's neck. He didn't worry about falling; he knew Cas would never let go.

Dean was completely enveloped by Castiel. He was breathing Castiel's breath, he was feeling Cas on every single of his nerve endings, and his brain was mercifully quiet.

But then Castiel pulled slightly away. Their noses were only a centimeter away.

"I-," started Dean, but he was unable to complete his thought.

_He can't think straight,_ thought Castiel. He beamed. The dazzling smile from Cas made Dean feel as if he were holding a piece of sunlight.

"So," said Cas quietly. "Are we clear?"

"I – we – yeah," said Dean faintly.

"So now we're together?" Cas pressed.

"Yeah…"

Castiel broke into a huge smile, and before Dean could shake off his feelings from the last kiss, he kissed Dean again. "Good, he breathed and flashed out.

Dean lay back against the ground, trying to get his bearings. "He just -," he started. "I -," he tried again. "Dammit," he finally swore, getting up. He'd go to the library, but in his current state of disarray, he didn't know how much research would get done.

A couple of hours later, Dean was staring at a computer screen, rubbing his forehead and trying to focus. He was wholly unsuccessful. His hand kept drifting to his mouth. He kept imagining Castiel kissing him, over and over again, and this time, the repeat of images made him feel as if he was falling, in a good way. He had to admit, he wasn't trying very hard to keep the feelings at bay. He loved what thinking of Cas's kisses did to him. It was as if all of him were alive in a way he'd never thought he'd be again.

The only downside was that the elation brought with it the conflicting emotions of shame and guilt and confusion.

He sighed and glanced to the side. His eyes widened. There, on the chair next to him, was a book titled "Self-help for the homosexual" by some doctor. Daen picked it up cautiously and read the back. It trumpeted that inside were several tried and true methods for suppressing homosexual feelings.

Dean raised his eyebrows. He knew he'd told Cas he was over it, and that they could be together, but – this might be the answer to his prayers.

He started to read.

He got so focused on what the book was telling him that he nearly jumped a mile when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He whirled around, half expecting to see Cas again. He breated a deep sigh of relief. "Jeezus, Sam," he growled.

"Feeling better," Sam informed him, but he still didn't look so good. "I came to help with the research. This is research, right?" Sam asked and plucked the self-help book from Dean's hands.

"I-," Dean stammered, trying to get the book back, but Sam was already reading and raising his brows.

"_What_ are you _reading?" _

"Uh – I couldn't focus on the research." True enough. "So, I started to read the book when I saw it next to me." Also true.

Sam seemed to accept the excuse – he must still be slightly out of it from the medicine and not thinking straight. He went back to reading. After a skimming couple of pages he exclaimed, "What a load of crap!"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked slowly.

"I mean, seriously! 'Remind yourself constantly that your feelings are wrong'? How can _feelings_ be wrong?"

"They can be."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I forgot how tightly you and Dad were hitched to the homophobe bandwagon."

"We were not!" Dean protested.

"Come on!" Sam scoffed. "All through school you and Dad told me that if I didn't want people calling me a 'fag' I should act like a real man and toughen up."

Dean winced. He'd forgotten about that. But…"So you think it's okay for a guy to love another guy?"

"Yeah!" Sam said in a 'duh' voice. "Some of my best friends at college were gay." Then something occurred to Sam and he made a disbelieving noise. "Wait – are you trying to tell me you're gay?"

"…No." Because he definitely did _not_ want to be having this conversation, so he wasn't trying anything.

"You're lying," laughed Sam humorlessly. "You're gay!"

"Okay." Time to admit it, to Sam and to himself. "Yeah, I am. Kinda."

"Wha-" Sam tried to say something. He ran his hands through his hair. "But – with who?"

Dean turned pinkish and kept silet.

"We haven't stayed in one place long enough for you to pick someone up," Sam reasoned, almost to himself. "So who-," and then his eyes widened and he looked right at Dean. "Oh my god. Cas. _Castiel._ You and Cas are -," but he didn't finish.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "Um, yeah, kinda."

Sam scoffed. "I'm out of here. I can't deal with this crap!" And he stormed out of the library.

Dean sighed and logged off the computer. No research would get done today. "Dammit," he cursed again, before he headed home. He seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

**I kind of get tired of all the fanfictions where the brother is always automatically okay with the pairing with Castiel. So, here Sammy is, not accepting it. Poor Dean.**


	7. Let it out

**Yes, yes, yes, they are still unowned by moi. Now shut up and read.**

Back at the motel, Cas was waiting for him. Dean froze at the door, then slowly advanced. "What are you doing here?" He asked cautiously. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to interact with him. Hell, his whole world was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Everything was all fucked up.

Cas was sitting cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with a pillow on his lap. "You never told me what your case was about."

Dean sat down in one of the chairs. "Kids have been disappearing from this supposedly haunted house."

Cas fluffed the pillow absent-mindedly. "Just disappearances?" he asked, brow furrowing.

"Yeah," answered Dean. He was starting to relax. "That's what's so weird. No bodies found. I don't think it's a spirit – they don't _take _people, they just, you know…maim. And kill."

"What have you found so far?"

"Zilch. I haven't searched much yet." He neglected to mention that it was because Cas was so much of a distraction.

"By the way…," Dean started. "About…you know, us."

Cas stiffened and his face went hard.

Dean reached for the pen on the desk next to him and started playing with it nervously. "Sam knows."

Cas relaxed. "I hadn't expected that you'd keep it a secret from your brother for very long."

"Well, he kinda found out by accident. And he's not exactly happy."

Castiel's face was closed, as usual, and unless you knew him as well as Dean did, you wouldn't be able to see the touch of fear in his eyes. You might, however, see the way he gripped the pillow extra tight. "Does he not want us to be…together?" Dean could tell that his voice was strained.

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "He freaked and cleared out."

Castiel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, exhaling heavily. "Well, call him. Tell him we need to talk."

"You two?" Dean asked hopefully.

"You need to be there as well," Cas said, his tone firm.

"Aw, c'mon," Dean groaned. "I hate talking."

Dean suddenly couldn't breathe because Castiel was standing over him, gentling brushing a palm down the length of his cheek. "I know," Cas said softly. "It is one of the many amazing things about you." He bent down and kissed him softly on the cheek. When he straightened up and stepped back, his breathing was ragged, but his tone was once again firm. "But we all need this. It will be good for us. Call Sam. And call me when he gets here."

"It's shameless how you manipulate me," Dean grumbled.

Cas gave a ghost of one of his sunlight smiles, and then disappeared.

Dean sighed and speed-dialed Sam. Amazingly, he picked up.

"What do you want?" he asked. Man, he sounded _pissed._

"Cas wants to talk."

"Yeah, I'm sure there are a lot of things Cas wants," Sam said snidely.

Dean paused. "Come on, Sammy, don't be like this. I thought you were pro-gays."

"I am. Just not when they're my brother who's been sneaking around behind my back and fucking with an angel. Without thinking he could tell me."

"See, these are the issues we need to work out," said Dean.

There was no answer on Sam's end.

Dean sighed. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, this has all been happening in the past two days. And we haven't been 'fucking'. We haven't done anything past kissing yet."

"Dean, more than I needed to know."

Dean ignored that and went on. "I didn't tell you, because – god, Sam, I still don't know how _I_ feel about it. I couldn't predict how you would feel about it." He paused again. "I didn't think this was how you'd react, though."

Sam was quiet a long time. "All right. I'll talk." _Click._

Dean put down the phone and sat still, twirling the pen in his hands. Fifteen minutes later, Sam walked into the room to find Dean in the same position Cas had left him. Dean looked at Sam and smiled that cocky smile. "Hey, sunshine!" he said to Sam's scowl. Sam knew by now that it was a mask, so he let it slide and just grunted in greeting.

Sitting down on the bed heavily he gestured at Dean. "So? Where is he?"

"Oh, right," said Dean, "I was supposed to call him." He reached for his phone, but Cas was already standing next to him with a puzzled look on his face.

"Cas?" Dean said in surprise.

"Um…I'm here."

"Yeah, I see that," Dean said. "_How_ are you here?"

"I…don't know. I just got the sense that – that you wanted me here."

They all stared at each other a little awkwardly. Finally, Cas sighed, "I'll begin. Sam, I want to have a relationship with your brother and I want to know how you feel about that."

Sam crossed his arms and snorted. "That's a nice way to put it. Why don't you just come out and say what you mean, Cas? You're tired of being the 10-million year old virgin and decided to fuck with my brother." His eyes were cold and hard as they bore directly into Castiel's.

Dean's heart stopped. He felt like he couldn't breathe. "Sam – Cas – that – it isn't true," he managed. "Right, Cas? That can't be true." The last was a whisper. The thought that after Dean had decided to trust the angel, that the angel might have been playing with him all along…

Cas moved behind Dean and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Of course it isn't true," he whispered back. He glared at Sam angrily. "I know you're worried about your brother," he said, his voice flinty. "But you're not the only one here who cares about him. Remember that."

Sam flinched and looked sullenly away. Dean took several deep breaths and then got a hold of himself. "Sam – I – you gotta let us explain."

"So explain," he replied gruffly.

Dean dropped his head in his hands and exhaled deeply. He felt Cas's hand travel from shoulder to neck, and start massaging. Alright. He could do this. Without looking up, he began. "The – physical – stuff started…," he took a moment to count backwards in his head, "the night before last. You remember, we'd just finished that job…I went out to get pie and beer." He lifted his head to see if Sam was listening. He was, and he was looking at Dean with such intensity that their gazes were locked and Dean couldn't break away.

Focusing on the feeling of Cas massaging his neck, he continued. "Cas went with me. In the car we started drinking and talking about…well, just talking. And Cas, he…," Dean's shoulders tensed up as Cas faltered. But Castiel returned to rubbing, and he could go on. "He kissed me." He saw Sammy flinch again. Dean looked away.

"I didn't want it to be true, you know?" Dean said, sounding a little incredulous, laughing a bit. "I tried to pass it off on the beer. But the next day when I was on dumpster duty, Cas came back." Dean was gazing at the floor. He hadn't realized how hard it would be to share their story with anyone. Cas noticed how Dean was feeling and picked up for him.

"I had been flitting around the world," Castiel explained. "Trying to figure out what I was feeling. What," he looked down at Dean as he said this, "neither of you realize is that, I've never truly cared about something before. Nothing but God. And that..." Cas stared off sadly for a moment. Then he seemed to shake himself back to the present. "Although I couldn't figure out what I was feeling, I understood one thing. I had to see Dean again. So I found him. And when I found him, he pretended not to remember our kiss." Cas was still automatically rubbing Dean's neck and shoulders. Dean was glad for it. It hurt him to remember the look on Castiel's face when he'd pushed him away. "So I kissed him again. And - "

"I kissed him back," Dean interjected roughly, still staring at the floor. Sam's eyes which had been on Cas, now flicked to Dean. "I kissed him back this time. And it was -" Dean exhaled deeply again. "But I didn't want to be gay." Now Dean looked directly at Sam on purpose. "You know how Dad always was. Other people could be messed up freaks, but John Winchester? He raised men," Dean smiled bitterly. "I've always tried to be the kind of man Dad wanted me to be. And this totally does not fit that profile. Shit, you know Dad'd be having an aneurysm if he could see me now." He looked around a bit worriedly, as if John Winchester was indeed looking down from wherever he was presently and shaking his head in disappointment. Sam was frowning, like he wanted to say something, but he waited for the rest of the explanation.

Cas continued from where Dean left off. "Dean pushed me away; denied that he'd kissed me." His words were starkly honest as always, and they made Dean clench up in shame. But Castiel's hand on his shoulder helped him to relax. "He said men don't love other men. He tried to explain that it was wrong. That _we _were wrong. He said if I wanted to experiment with human emotions, I should pick someone up from a bar." Dean had been leaning his elbows on his knees, arms hanging down. Now his hands and teeth clenched. He was remembering the cement trash can. His knuckles were still raw. Castiel continued, seemingly oblivious, but Dean knew he wasn"t because from his hands seemed to flow an extra amount of warmth and comfort. "I told Dean I'd change his mind. So I went to the bar."

"And you picked someone up to make my brother jealous?" Sam asked, finally speaking, saying, of course, the one thing Dean did not want to focus on.

"No, of course not," said Cas. "I was there to learn. I only want Dean," he added softly.

Sam smirked. "Congratulations, Dean. The angel couldn't find anyone hotter than you. Must be an ego boost."

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean yelled, surprising everyone by slamming his hands against the table and standing up. Castiel's hand dropped to clutch Dean's, but whether to provide comfort or to restrain Dean from smacking Sam upside the head, Dean was unsure. "Why are you acting like such a bitch?"

Sam stood up, too, and although he was smiling ironically, there was pure anger in his eyes and voice. "Well that fits, then, doesn't it? Because you're acting like a goddamn JERK!" His voice started out low, but he ended up shouting louder than his brother.

"What's your problem?" spat Dean.

"My _problem _is _you!_" Sam had strode over and jabbed a finger into Dean's chest. "You are such a frickin' _hypocrite_! You were all 'Oh, we're brothers, Sammy, we're supposed to tell each other every single goddamn little thing', but you didn't _mean it_! I try and tell yoiu about everything, I try and tell you what I'm doing and feeling and thinking and I try and talk, but _you! Never! Will!"_ He punctuated each exclamation with a jab at Dean's chest. "You just tell me, 'That's wrong, Sammy, don't do that Sammy,' but you won't frickin' _listen _to me!" Dean was looking shocked. "How long were you planning on keeping this from me, huh, Dean? How long were you going to keep me in the dark about what you're thinking and feeling? How long am I gonna _stay _in the dark? Because I don't buy this crap about this only starting two days ago. Feelings don't just pop up overnight!" Throughout the tirade, Castiel's grip had grown progressively tighter, but Dean barely felt it. He was staring at Sam, speechless. Dean dropped back into the chair. After a while, Sam turned around and was about to kick something in frustration, when he heard Dean say something in a low voice. He turned back. "What?"

Dean's voice was shuddering and tightly controlled. "I said, you're right."

Sam's eyes widened, and Dean continued. "You're right, Sam. About everything. About me, about Cas, about us, about everything." His eyes begged Sam to listen. "I - I didn't want to listen to you," he admitted. "I didn't want to hear what you were saying. I wanted to pretend everything was normal. Dammit, you _know _me, Sammy," he said, voice and eyes pleading. "Sam, I should have listened, and I - I promise. I will. From now on, I'll try my hardest to be better for you. Okay?" His voice was hoarse with effort and hope.

Sam slowly nodded. "Okay. And...I'll listen now."

Dean exhaled in relief. If Sam had decided not to accept him and Cas - he didn't know what he'd have done. A choice between his brother and the man who made him the happiest he'd ever been was not one he wanted to make.

"So when did this all really start?" Sam's voice was weary, but open. He'd keep up his end of the bargain.

Dean looked up at Cas and smiled nervously. He was about to admit something he'd barely even admitted to himself. His angel smiled back and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Dean knew he could go on. "For me, it started, well...around the time I realized how much Cas had sacrificed for us. For me." He couldn't focus his gaze on anyone, so he just kept staring at the floor. "You remember that night that Cas thought he was going to die?" He gave a little half smile at the memory. "I think it started then. Then, I realized how much he'd given up...and how amazing he was." He smiled shyly at Cas. Castiel's return smile seemed to tremble a bit, and Dean realized he was holding back tears. Dean looked at Sam. "I swear, Sammy, I didn't realize what it was. Not until two days ago. I didn't realize how much I l...liked Cas until this morning."

Castiel cleared his throat. "I knew from the beginning. When I carried you from...When I carried you back to this world. When I saw your strength. I didn't recognize the human emotions I was feeling until recently." Cas was speaking directly to Dean, and the way he looked at him made Sam feel like he was interrupting something private. _Very _private.

Sam coughed into his hand, and Dean and Cas broke their gazes guiltily to look at him. "Okay," said Sam simply. "I won't...stop you." They broke into wide relieved smiles. "Just answer one question, Dean."

"Sure," his brother said, looking at him a bit warily.

"You liked watching Dr. Sexy because you actually thought he was sexy, didn't you?"

Dean's surprised laugh rang through the room, and instantly they were all more relaxed. Soon, he and his brother were sharing a joke like they hadn't in ages, laughing so hard tears leaked out of their eyes. Castiel, not understanding the reference, nevertheless looked on with a happy, but puzzled, expression. "Yeah," Dean answered him, grinning and wiping his eyes. "I guess I kinda did."

After their chuckles died down, Dean got up and picked up his jangling keys from the table. "Cas and I are going for a drive, okay?" he said, heading to the door and leading Cas by the hand.

"We are?" asked Cas, surprised, and then understanding dawned when Dean sighed impatiently. "Oh. Right. We are," he corrected himself.

"Don't wait up for us," Dean grinned at his brother as he walked out. Castiel gave a little wave and smiled, and then they were both gone.

"Okay," Sam said to the closed door. He got up and went over to the window and peered through the blinds. He saw Dean and Cas making out against the side of the Impala, blissful looks on both their faces. Sam sighed and let the blinds drop, moving back to the bed. Bleakly, he realized he could feel tears stinging his eyes.

Castiel obviously made his brother very happy. This was the most responsive Sam had seen Dean in a long time. And he'd resigned himself to never again seeing one more smile like the many he'd seen pass over his brother's face tonight. So, he told himself, this was obviously a good thing. Obviously. It would make no sense not to go along with it.

But it had been so damn hard not to refuse to accept what was going on in front of him, to actually joke about it. Because every time he'd see Cas smile tenderly at his brother, every time they gripped hands to support each other...Sam's heart felt like it was being filleted by the knife he kept under his pillow.

What was going through him right now was a maelstorm of emotions; hurt confusion, anger, but most of all...jealousy. It wasn't that he wanted Castiel (or Dean, for that matter) for himself. It was that every look and touch they gave each other reminded Sam of what he'd had once, a long time ago...with Jess. What he'd never had the time to find since. And he was so fucked up, he sure as hell wasn't going to find anything like it now, or ever again. After all, how could anyone understand the dark and complex workings of the mind of Sam Winchester, vessel to Lucifer himself? Who could ever bring him down from every single ledge he felt like throwing himself off? Who could ever identify with him, the demons' special one, the human that was more demon than most demons? Who could accept him for what he was, when he couldn't do that himself?

Tears were leaking out now, hot and thick and fast, dripping down his face. He brought his clenched fist to his mouth and bit down, hard, to keep himself from screaming. He needed something to distract him. Research. That should do it.

He picked up his laptop with trembling hands and in a couple of clicks, he was looking at pages of information on the house they were checking out. With a calming breath, he was able to lose himself in the work, lose himself so for a couple of hours, he wouldn't have to _face _himself, the self he didn't want to see, in his mind's mirror.

**I wanted to make this chapter more Sam-centric. Actually, although I write more for Dean and Cas, the one I really identify with is Sam. I think I might have gone a bit overboard on the drama, but this explains why Sam isn't automatically okay with the pairing. But for his brother, he'll try to be. This Sam, the one who believes himself unworthy of most things in his life...I may have let a little of my own feelings into this writing. It's hard not to.**


	8. Drive

They were wrapped around each other, enjoying every second they had to be together. Castiel broke their contact to look into Dean's eyes. A smile was creeping across the angel's face as if he couldn't help it. Dean realized how rare it was to see a real smile from Cas, and he promised he'd make it happen more often.

"Are we really going to drive?" Castiel murmured, letting his head fall back on to Dean's chest.

Dean closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, then out again, feeling the wonderful weight of Castiel move with his lungs. He loved how the angel was the perfect height to be tucked under his chin. "Yeah," he exhaled, "I actually do want to drive."

Castiel reached around Dean and pulled open the door. Dean reluctantly let go and Cas slid in and relaxed against the seat, leaning back with a whimsical smile on his face. It made Dean's heart clench – but in a good way – to see him like that. He got into the driver's seat and started the car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas's head roll so that he faced him. "So where are you taking us?" the angel asked contentedly.

"Nowhere in particular," Dean answered, reaching to turn on the music. AC/DC came blaring out of the stereo and he grinned at Castiel's wince. "What?" he smiled. "Don't you like heavy metal?"

Cas pondered the noise assaulting his ears. "No," he answered. "I do not. It is too…screechy."

Dean laughed. "You know what?" he said, switching off the cassette player and turning to radio, "I'll let you pick the music."

Castiel looked at the dial warily. "How does it work?"

Dean laughed softly and picked up Castiel's hand. It was interesting, how different their two hands were. Dean's fingers were surprisingly long and slender, but calloused, while Cas's underneath his were thicker but soft, smooth, and Dean knew, gentle. He took Cas's hand to the dial and showed him how to switch from station to station. Then he moved back and let Cas take control. "Let's see what your taste is," he said, amused.

He couldn't find a word to describe what it felt like to watch angelic concentration on his face as studiously listened to each station and made comments. "There was no music in heaven," he told Dean.

"Doesn't sound like much of a heaven," answered Dean, but if Cas was there, it would be. "But you mean you guys didn't sit on clouds, flap your fluffy white wings, and strum harps?"

Castiel looked at him in confusion. "What? No," he said, not understanding the joke. He turned back to the music. "Angels do not have the inborn creativity that humans possess," he explained. "However," he added, settling on a slow rock station and closing his eyes, "we can appreciate it. It's amazing, music," he whispered. "The hums, the thrums. It lights up your soul."

Dean looked to the side to see Cas laid back in utter enjoyment of the song; peace in every line of his form. Dean swore softly and pulled over to the side of the road. Cas opened a questioning eye in time to see Dean pull him in close. "I can't drive with you sitting there distracting me like that," he breathed in explanation, and then he succumbed to his heart and kissed him.

Dean leaned back against the car door and pulled the angel with him so that Cas was practically on top of him. Good. That was the way Dean wanted it. Their kiss intensified and Dean looped an arm around Castiel's back and pressed against him. Dean was so glad to be able to do this, almost completely free of the guilt that had first plagued him. He was unbearably happy to feel the angel's smooth lips open on his and to meet Castiel's tongue and feel the burst of wonderful emotions in him.

Cas pulled away suddenly, cocking his ear toward the song coming out of the speakers. Dean groaned and pulled on Castiel's tie to bring him back in his arms again.

"Oof – ," grunted the angel as he fell, and he laughed and pushed himself back up. "Stop it, Dean," he smiled, pulling up his disgruntled partner. "Just wait a bit. I want to hear this."

"Fine," sighed Dean, sliding an arm around Castiel's back. Cas leaned his head against Dean's shoulder, and Dean laid his own head down, feeling Castiel's hair tickle his cheek.

The song playing was one Dean didn't recognize, but then again, Dean wasn't exactly proficient in modern music. But it captured him from the beginning.

"_Just one more moment,"_ it started, and the chords of the music made his heart stir. "_That's all that's needed. Like wounded soldiers, in need of healing." _Dean felt Cas staying perfectly motionless under him, completely focusing on the music. "_Time to be honest. This time I'm bleeding. Please don't dwell on it…'cause I didn't mean it." _He felt Cas clench tightly, and he buried his face in the angel's hair, inhaling deeply, to reassure himself as much as the angel. "_I can't believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground, but it doesn't matter 'cos I made it up, forgive me now. Every day I spend away, my soul's inside out. Gotta be some way that I can make it up to you now, somehow." _Dean held Castiel's hand in a silent apology, and Castiel's answering touch told Dean he'd been forgiven before he'd even committed the slight. "_By now you'd know that…I'd come for you. No one but you. Yes, I'd come for you…but only if you told me to." _ Castiel gripped Dean's hand. "_And I'd fight for you. I'd lie, it's true. Give my life for you. You know I'd always come for you." _ Castiel looked up into Dean's face.

"You know that's true, right?" Cas said softly. "I'd always come for you. I'll be here. _Always,"_ he whispered, leaning back on Dean's chest. "Just for you."

Dean nodded slightly, tears stinging his eye. Damn. He was becoming such a fairy, crying like a little girl. The song continued, and he closed his eyes to listen.

_"I was blindfolded," _the voice rang out. "_But now I'm seeing. My mind was closing…now I'm believing." _The voice deepened, the music played, and Dean was completely convinced that the artist was singing just for them. "_I finally know just what it means to let someone in. To see the side of me that no one does, or ever will. So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone, I'd search forever just to bring you home, here and now, this I vow." _The song continued on to the chorus, and Dean let go of Cas's hand, to tilt the angel's chin upward and close the distance between them.

Castiel half-turned, bringin his hands to rest against Dean's chest. Dean's mouth pillowed his and brought him in. Cas was overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through him. But instead of sorting through them and trying to analyze them as usual, he allowed himself to be swept away. He shifted so he was sitting on Dean, one knee on either side of him on the seat. He moved his hands to Dean's shoulders. Now Dean had to tilt himself up to meet Cas, and he slid his hands up the angel's back, slipping off the trench coat. Dean paused to lean his forehead against Castiel's chest to breathe several ragged breaths. He felt Cas's lips in his hair, on his neck, and he felt Cas start to pull off his own brown jacket.

"Cas," he managed to get out. His eyes were clenched tight. "Stop."

Castiel froze, then leaned back and slipped his hand under Dean's chin and looked into Dean's eyes. Even though he tried, Dean couldn't look away. "What's wrong?" Cas asked softly, blue eyes searching.

"I – I can't," Dean whispered back. "I can't do this yet," he went on. "I thought…thought I could. But – I'm not ready for it. For you. I need to – I need to think about it or a while." His voice was broken and his eyes begged Castiel to understand. "But please – please don't leave."

"Shh," Castiel soothed, placing a thumb on Dean's lips. "Don't worry. If you need more time, then that's what you need. I'm okay with it." Then he displaced himself so he was no longer on top of Dean, but just leaning against him, his ear against his heart. He smiled as he felt the reassuring pulsation of Dean's heart in his ears.

Dean breathed out in relief and pulled up Cas's discarded coat to spread over the both of them like a bedsheet. "It's just so damn confusing!" he blurted, exasperated after a couple of moments. Cas opened a sleepy eye halfway, then closed it and nodded against Dean's chest. Dean began stroking the hair at the nape of Cas's neck absentmindedly.

Dean could feel the angel's sweet sigh of contentment against his shirt, and then heard Castiel murmur, "If it's because I'm a male, I can change that."

Dean froze, his eyes widening. "You mean, like, you could use your angel mojo to grow boobs?"

Castiel snorted. "Don't be silly, Dean. Of course not. I meant, I could switch to a different vessel. It would take some time to find a suitable vessel, but it is possible."

Dean's throught closed up. "Um, I think you just made it worse, Cas."

Castiel leaned back so he could talk to Dean face-to-face, causing the trenchcoat, which had been draped across the two of them, to fall around his waist. _He has no idea how damn cute he is, _Dean thought to himself, then cursed again silently. He really was becoming a fairy. "What did I say wrong?" Cas asked, concern in his slight voice and wide blue eyes.

Dean sighed. "You just reminded me that that's not really your body that I – want to be with," he tried to explain, turning a bit red, and glad of the darkness. "I mean, there's a human man in there, somewhere, with a wife and kids."

Castiel looked down, and when he looked up, his eyes were filled with tears. Dean put a hand to Cas's cheek, startled. "What – what's wrong, Cas?"

Castiel's hands tightened into fishts. "I haven't felt Jimmy's consciousness in here….for a long time." A couple of tears trickled out and Dean swiped them away, strangely angry to see the hurt Cas was feeling. Castiel brought a hand up to hold the wrist of the hand that Dean had extended to the angel's face. "Dean," he said softly. "I think – ," his voice broke, forcing him to start over. "I think he'd been my vessel for too long. It was too much for him. I was too hard for him." He pressed his face into Dean's hand, closing his eyes in shame and guilt. Immense, heart-breaking guilt.

"Oh, Cas," Dean sighed, pullng him back to his previous position against his chest. "You can't beat yourself up for that, alright? Seriously, I mean it, Cas. You have done so much good, for me and Sam and the world. You are good enough to deserve at least that body. Sometimes…you're too good for me," Dean admitted softly. He interrupted Castiel's protest to continue, "And I couldn't ask you to go through a search for a new vessel just because of my stupid prejudices. I can get over them…just, slowly. So for now, let's not go much past kissing, alright? I need to get used to it."

Cas blushed, not realizing he'd even wanted to go much past kissing until Dean had mentioned it. "I don't understand your prejudices, Dean," Castiel admitted. "But…I do understand that this is something you need. As long as I'm with you," he concluded, burrowing deeper against Dean's warmth, "I'm fine."

Dean ran his hands through Castiel's hair. "Thanks," he said, so softly the angel might have imagined it.

Later, when Dean rejoined Sam in the motel room, he couldn't keep the silly smile of f his face as he fell onto his bed.

Sam sighed and set aside his laptop, knuckling his forehead. "Alright, Dean, he exhaled dejectedly. "Tell."

Dean flipped on his side so that he was facing his brother. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Sammy," he said, trying to keep a straight face, but he just couldn't stop his angel-induced happiness from stretching from cheek to cheek.

His brother stared out at him. "Dude, it's creepy to see you this happy," Sam said finally. "So I know you must be serious about Castiel. What I want to know is, how serious?"

Dean sat up and contemplated the swirling beige pattern on the wall opposite him. "Well…serious."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Will it last a week, a year…forever?"

Dean squinted at Sam. "We don't even know if we're going to live a week, Sammy. How am I supposed to know how long it's going to last? It's not like we planned it."

"Well I want to know if I'm going to have to deal with the two of you after you break up or something," Sam said shortly.

Dean's smile came back. "No, I don't think we're breaking up any time soon."

"So … are you going to have sex with him?" Sam asked, turning red and wincing at the image his mind conjured up.

Dean groaned and fell back so he was lying down again. "Not yet," he told his brother. "I don't think I'm…ready. Not yet. We're going to go slow. For me." His face was almost as red as Sam's which made his brother suspicious. Dean, his brother, the lady conqueror, embarrassed?

"Do you love him?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean stilled and stared at the ceiling. Finally, he said, "I don't know if I can say that yet."

Sam noted the careful wording of his brother's reply. He also remembered earlier, when Dean had said, "How much I l – like…Cas." Sam was sure he'd been about to say 'love', not 'like'. But he also knew Dean wasn't big on commitments. It was an immense internal struggle for Dean to admit how he felt, even to Sam, his own brother. It would take a while.

"Whatever," Sam said, trying to lighten the mood. "Just don't do anything in front of me, okay?"

Dean grinned. "You mean like, making out?"

Sam groaned. "That's exactly what I mean."

"Well that's too bad, Sammy. I'm sure you'd love to hear all about the amazing things Cas can do with his – " but then Dean was effectively cut off by a pillow flying across the room to hit him in the face.

_Maybe Dean being with Cas is a good thing, _thought Sam, as he and his brother battled with the pillows. He hadn't seen him this happy in an eternity.


	9. Slowly

Dean slept late the next morning, and when Sam woke him up around lunchtime, Dean insisted on taking a shower before heading out to grab some grub, which Sam's head was hurting too much to contemplate doing himself. He really was feeling sick a lot lately.

Sam was sitting against his pillows, browsing the newspaper, when Cas appeared in the room. Castiel looked around. "Hello, Sam."

Sam looked at the angel, trying very hard not to glare. "Hi, Cas," he said, as courteously as possible.

Castiel surveyed the room some more. "Where's Dean?" he asked finally.

Sam hooked a thumb at the bathroom door. "Taking a shower." He looked up from an article to see Castiel gazing consideringly at where the sounds of water were coming from. "Don't even think about it," he warned the angel. Castiel smiled sheepishly. Sam continued, "Rule number one: nothing – sexual – in front of me. Or anywhere near me. I don't want to see it."

"Okay," Cas conceded meekly.

"Besides," Sam went on, turning a page of the paper. "He told me that you guys were going slow."

"Did he?" Castiel asked, looking interested, as if he wanted to know more about what Dean said about him. But they were interrupted by the sound of water being cut off and the bathroom door opening.

Dean stood there, towel-less, saying, "I forgot my –," and then he spotted Cas. "Shit," he cursed, and closed the door. "Sam!" he shouted. "You didn't tell me he was out there!

"You didn't ask!" Sam yelled back.

Castiel's eyes were wide with what he'd seen and his face was a deep pink. "Maybe you should take him some clothes," he coughed into his hand.

Sam grinned. "What," he said, getting up and retrieving a pair of Dean's jeans and a t-shirt. "You don't want to see my brother naked?"

Castiel coughed in utter embarrassment, turning an even deeper pink. Sam didn't usually tease people (that was more up Dean's alley), but Cas was fun to tease. Sam was in a much better mood as he passed the clothes to Dean through the slightly open bathroom door. Dean's face appeared at the slit. "I'm going to kill you," he hissed through the crack, taking the outfit. Sam rolled his eyes and went back to his newspaper, still giggling.

When Dean emerged, he was wearing low-rise jeans and a smallish Metallica t-shirt. He smiled a greeting at Castiel, who smiled nervously back. They were still both a bit pinkish.

Dean started mixing up some coffee, and Castiel's eyes trailed him around the room. Sam switched from the paper to his computer, sitting on the edge of the bed. "So," he started, bringing up a couple of documents to the screen. "I was searching on that house."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, abandoning the coffee to sit on the bed and look over his brother's shoulder. "What'd you find?"

"That's the thing – nothing!" he said, exasperated.

Castiel sat behind Dean as Sam kept talking, trying to lean over his shoulder to see the screen. But then he got distracted by how very good Dean smelled. He bent close and inhaled at the line of Dean's neck, noting the pleasant scent of hot water and soap, and the hints of oil and cinnamon that Dean always carried with him. Dean turned his head to smile at him. Quietly, he tilted so his mouth was on his. Sam didn't even notice; he just went on talking.

"- not a single death, suspicious or otherwise. I don't even know where the legend it was haunted came from. There isn't a smudge of even mild violence in its history. How could it possibly be haunted? What do you think…?" He turned to address Dean and found himself met with the sight of the two intertwined, not paying a lick of attention to him. "Guys…," he groaned, covering his eyes. "Not in front of me."

They broke apart reluctantly. Sam sighed. He saw the looks they were shooting at each other. Nothing would get done today. He turned back to his laptop. "Go get lunch," he growled at Dean. "And take Cas with you."

They both beamed at him. "You're the best little brother a guy could ask for," Dean grinned, ruffling Sammy's hair.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam snapped, ducking Dean's hand. His scowl was only met with sunshine from both his brother and the angel.

"We'll be back in an hour," Dean told Sam, standing at the door. He intertwined his fingers with Castiel's and looked sideways at him. "Maybe two," he amended.

"Sure, fine," Sam sighed, flopping back on the bed, waving them off.

Outside, Castiel asked, "Are we going to go driving again?" His voice was innocent, as always, and happy, which wasn't as always. "That was very enjoyable."

"Nah," Dean answered. "Let's just walk into town." He began in the direction, and Castiel was pulled along. Dean smiled and placed a protective arm around the angel's shoulders and they walked in a comfortable rhythm.

_I like this, _thought Cas, smiling to himself. _This is nice. Peaceful. _Usually, being in human form was anything but. The heightened senses assaulted him with bright colors, sharp noises, and other loudness that crashed into his mind. But that was the amazing thing about Dean. He calmed him down and brought him to a new level of life all at once. He gave him a soul.

He was about to say something, anything, to tell Dean how he felt. He understood communication was a necessary part of any relationship, according to many magazines. But as he opened his mouth, Dean tensed and let go of him, stepping to walk about two feet's distance away.

Castiel closed his mouth, confused. What? Dean wasn't looking at him. Maybe this was what Dean had meant about needing time? But, still…it hurt. He didn't want to push Dean any further away, though, so he kept quiet.

Instead, he focused on his surroundings. They were almost at Main Street. They were passing an ice cream store. Castiel stood in front of the door. He shot a pleading look at Dean.

Dean turned, realizing that Cas wasn't walking beside him. "Wha…ice cream? Why?"

"It's essential to understanding humans," Cas tried to say seriously, but he couldn't keep a playful smile off his face.

Dean smiled back. "You haven't had ice cream yet? Okay, then. Sammy did say we could take as long as we wanted. Let's get you your first sundae."

With a hand to his chin, Castiel thoughtfully contemplated the list of flavors as the cashier gave them a bored look. "There are so many," he murmured.

"Maybe you should get Heaven's Special," Dean joked, pointing to a house specialty. The angel chuckled and stepped back.

"You choose for me," he told Dean.

Dean shrugged and approached the counter. "Two hot fudge vanilla sundaes," he told the kid. "With extra whipped cream. And nuts." He turned to lean against the counter and smile at Cas. "I like simple things," he explained.

"Are you calling me simple?" Castiel teased. He expected Dean to laugh with him, even if it wasn't the best joke, but his partner just tensely looked at the clerk who was pretending not hear as she scooped ice cream. Castiel's gaze sharpened.

Once they got the ice cream and sat down, Castiel played with his spoon and looked thoughtfully at Dean. Dean was once again looking high strung, taking terse bites and looking sideways out the big storefront window.

"I've figured it out," Castiel announced suddenly, startling Dean.

"Figured what out?" Dean asked, when Cas didn't elaborate.

"You're scared." His tone was accusative.

_That _snapped Dean's attention to him. He stopped staring at the people passing the window to meet his green gaze to the blue one. "What are you talking about?" he scoffed. "I'm not scared of anything."

"Yes, you are," asserted Castiel quietly. "Why else would you care what other people think?"

Dean swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Castiel sighed with impatience and dropped his candy-pink plastic spoon into the festive bowl. "You're amazing, Dean," he said matter-of-factly. "But in front of people, here, in public, you treat me as if I'm nothing to you. And I do mean something to you." His voice turned uncertain. "Don't I?"

"Yeah, of course –"

"Then what does it matter what others think of you?" Castiel interrupted with frustration. "I sometimes think I will never understand humans. What is so wrong with one man loving another?" Castiel didn't bother to lower his voice and Dean's furtive look at the cashier (who was now staring openly at them) only made him angrier. "Dean, I can understand your personal hesitation." His gaze softened. "I would wait forever for you. But for the entire world to change? I won't wait for everyone to be okay with us." He reached out to take Dean's hand. "I only need you."

Dean rubbed Castiel's hand with his thumb. "I didn't realize," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Castiel frowned. "So long as you don't do it again."

Dean looked up, startled. He saw the mischievous spark and realized the angel was joking. He laughed incredulously. "You're getting a sense of humor," he smiled, automatically stretching out a hand to stroke Cas's cheek.

Castiel froze, surprised by Dean's sudden display of affection. Then he smiled, the heartwarming curl of innocent lips that had always caught a little bit of Dean's heart. He turned his head slightly, and then a now-familiar feeling was spreading through Dean – happiness, as he felt the angel's rough lips on his own.

Dean closed his eyes, feeling his lashes brush the other man's cheek. He felt the angel pouring in, a melding of consciousness that lit him up in the most wonderful way. Being with Cas always sharpened his world, making things seem real, making him feel actually alive. It wasn't something he felt too often anymore. But with the sharpness came a blurring of the edges that softened his spirits.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the same calm in the angel's eyes. "We have an audience," Cas whispered apologetically.

Dean looked to the side and saw the cashier staring at them blatantly, her mouth open. A glance to the other side revealed a crowd of teenagers standing outside the window. He bit his lip.

"Does it still bother you?" Castiel asked, sounding deflated. "I'm rushing you, aren't I?"

Dean leaned back. "Nah, I can take a couple of teenagers think I'm a fag. I mean, I am one, aren't I?"

Cas's brows furrowed. "You humans. Your slang is so confusing. Does not 'fag' mean a block of burning wood?"

Dean blinked. "Um…I don't know."

"No matter. I'm going to enjoy the rest of my sundae." Cas took a big spoon of the ice cream. He smiled at Dean from behind the spoon. When he lowered it to get some more, Dean laughed. "What?" Cas asked. "What's so funny?"

"You've got a little something right…there," Dean chuckled, rubbing a speck of whipped cream off of Castiel's nose. He licked his thumb. "Whipped cream's a good look for you."

Castiel assumed a haughty look. "Don't laugh at me. I am an angel of the Lord."

"Wow, Cas," Dean sighed when he was done laughing. "You know, I've never seen this side of you.

"You bring out the best in me," Castiel said honestly, no laughing smile, no winks, no mischievous sparkle. Just sincerity. And that was what Dean lov…liked the most.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Dean said, suddenly getting up and pulling on the angel's hand. "Let's head back to the room."

"Sure," the angel followed, dropping his spoon into the mostly empty bowl. Dean flicked a one fingered salute at the cashier as they left and she turned bright red. Her mouth was still wide open.

Castiel leaned forward to murmur over Dean's shoulder, "Don't be mad at her just because she wasn't instantly infatuated with you. You are getting older."

Dean scoffed. "That's not why I was mad at her." Cas cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I'm afraid I'm losing my touch. Am I going to stop being attractive to girls now that I'm gay?"

Castiel shoved his shoulder a bit. "I think you have a very nice touch. And you're just as attractive to girls as you always were. I'm sure she thought you were…," he searched his mind for the slang term. "…'hot'."

"Thanks, Cas," Dean laughed. "You make me feel so much better about myself."

"Hey, fairies!" came a yell, and Dean froze. Christ. It was those kids who'd been standing outside the ice cream store.

Dean turned around and slung an arm around Castiel's shoulders protectively.

The leader of the little group, a hulk who might have even matched Sam in height, stepped forward. "Is it true that fags don't have real dicks?" he asked crudely, smirking. The goons behind him snickered.

"I'm sure you'd love to figure out, wouldn't you?" Dean drawled in response, even as he heard Castiel's confusion: "Dean what'd he –" Dean cut him off with a squeeze to the shoulders and whispered, "Let me handle this."

"I'm sure you'd … love it if I ….would love to come…figure it out," the guy lamely retorted. The goons didn't even chuckle at that one. Dean snorted.

"Cut the flirt fest and tell us why the hell you bothered us. My – ," he glanced at Cas, "- boyfriend and I are heading home."

Castiel beamed, and even though this wasn't the best time, snuggled a bit closer under Dean's protective arm. Dean had called him his 'boyfriend'. He wasn't sure why, but it felt like a big deal.

The big guy swaggered forward. "That's the thing. This isn't your home."

Dean glanced around him. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is what you'd call a 'street'. But, hey, y'know, I could be wrong."

The guy growled and advanced further. Dean began to realize exactly how _tall _he was. "Fags like you aren't normal, they don't belong here."

"If they let people in here based on normalcy, then I guess we're both outta luck, eh, Hagrid?" The zinger fell a bit short. His first instinct had been to say "Sasquatch", but that was a special Sammy insult. "Bigfoot" came to mind next, but a glance at the floor - a long way down - revealed surprisingly diminutive feet.

The bully's ratty shoes were what Dean was staring at when a meaty fist caught his face and sent him flying towards the ground. Dazed, he looked up - and saw the giant doing the exact same thing. He was actually _flying _through the air, as in, off the ground, back several meters. He landed on the asphalt, unconscious. Dean looked back at Cas and saw the angel looking more heavenly than ever - fist extended, and a fiercely determined look on his face. He dropped his arm and glared at the gaping sidekicks. "Leave my boyfriend and I alone, jerkholes."

Dean broke into a huge grin, even though the cut next to his eye made it hurt to stretch any facial muscles. With dignity, the angel helped Dean up, inspecting him all the while. He frowned when he touched the blood dripping down Dean's cheek.

"They made you bleed," he muttered angrily. "I should go back and smite them."

"No smiting," Dean smiled, wincing. He might have over-exaggerated the wince a tiny bit, just to see Castiel's reaction.

It was to frown deeper. "Stupid humans. I need to get you back to the room, so I may care for your wounds. Among other things."

"Woah, Cas, I thought we were going slow." But his thoughts contradicted his words. He was highly anticipating how Cas would 'care for his wounds'. And other things. He was pretty sure Cas sensed that. He also appreciated the fact that if he had thought the angel really was going too fast, Cas would've stopped. For his sake.

But as it was... "I will go slow," Castiel answered petulantly. "_Very _slow," he emphasized, softly caressing Dean's back. Dean wondered how he'd gotten so lucky.


End file.
